


Amoto quaeramus seria ludo

by Randominity



Category: Harry Potter RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randominity/pseuds/Randominity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Amicus verus est rara avis," Alfie says smoothly, as he enters the wardrobe trailer and plucks the paperbook copy of Lord of the Flies that Matt's been reading for English from his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amoto quaeramus seria ludo

**Take 1:**

Matt likes Alfie's hands, but he will never admit to this. He teases Alfie, like all the others do, about being a public school boy whose dainty hands can't possibly have seen a hard day's work. But Matt knows that in truth, Alfie's hands are rough and calloused; not on the fingertips from playing guitar like Dan, but on the insides of his palms, from rowing. Somehow, to Matt, this makes a world of difference.

~*~

**Take 2:**

When Alfie spends time with Devon, the two are incorrigible flirts. Devon lazily smokes and watches girls as they walk past, nodding his head in acknowledgement when someone catches his interest. Surprisingly when Devon says, "hullo there, beautiful," he sounds completely sincere, even if he's said it to twenty other girls before. Alfie has a winning smile and is generous with his winks and, if he's feeling particularly chivalrous, is not above bowing and opening doors for a girl he wants to chat up.

Matt can't be bothered with any of it. Girls are all right, but the flirting seems like a terribly silly way to let a girl know you like her, no matter how they giggle and blush. He's got his mates, anyway, and he'd rather play a game of pool or listen to music with them than fall over himself trying to impress someone else. No girl he knows plays pool quite like Alfie, back straight and bent over the pool table with steady concentration. Alfie's crap at playing pool, though.

~*~

**Take 3:**

"Amicus verus est rara avis," Alfie says smoothly, as he enters the wardrobe trailer and plucks the paperbook copy of Lord of the Flies that Matt's been reading for English from his hands.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Matt asks Alfie, straightening from his slouched position. His hands are positioned as though he's still holding the book, and he places them on his thighs as he sits up. "Some of us are still dealing with the English language, here." He wonders briefly whether Alfie would be on Jack's or Ralph's side, on the island. He reckons Alfie would _be_ Ralph: calmly taking charge, rationing out supplies, making sure everyone uses definite articles when they speak, and doesn't split their infinitives. Matt came into the trailer for the express purpose of being left alone to read, and he already knows that since Alfie's here, he won't be reading any more for the day. He supposes he'd follow Alfie on the island; Alfie can be very persuasive.

"Well, nobody's perfect," Alfie says, sitting down next to Matt, then without missing a beat, he adds, "say, do you have a girlfriend at home?"

"What?" Matt says sharply, wrenched from his visions of deserted islands and warpaint. "What? No! Why?"

Alfie shrugs. "I was just wondering. I've never heard you say anything about one, so." He grins. "I don't know why you're not out there, flirting with the ladies." Miming running a hand through his hair, he tosses his head and imitates Matt's accent. "'Oh, I'm not _really_ anything like Neville at all, you know. If you like, I can show you.'"

Matt shakes his head, looking down at his hands and feeling irrationally uncomfortable. The mimicry is close enough, but he'd never say those things. "I'm not like that," he says. "We can't all be like you, you know."

"Like me how?" Alfie narrows his eyes. "Charming? Witty? Intelligent?"

Matt allows himself a smile. "No, flirty and arrogant." He reaches for his book and Alfie holds it over his head, out of Matt's reach. "Girl-chasing," Matt adds. "Attention span of a small child--" he reaches up again and Alfie switches the hand he's holding the book in.

"Not necessarily girls," Alfie says, lowering the book but keeping his hand out to the side. "Not necessarily all girls."

~*~

**Take 4:**

Matt pauses mid-reach and studies Alfie carefully. Alfie gives him a brief grin, but without his characteristic cheekiness it seems rather shy and awkward. "I don't chase girls at all," Matt admits, letting his hand drop again.

Alfie shrugs again. "That's all right," he says, and leans in as he hands Matt his book. Alfie is watching Matt with the look Matt's seen him direct towards some of the girls he's chatted up on set; almost-but-not-quite nervous, intense, dead focused on the target. It reminds Matt of the way predators stalk their prey, and as his face grows warm, he thinks that maybe Alfie has a bit of Jack in him.

"You're not going to chat me up, are you?" Matt forces his voice to come out lightly, but his laugh is a little breathy and he has to swallow it back. He doesn't even bother looking at the book as he takes it back from Alfie. "If you try to wink at me or any of that girl rubbish, I'm going to leave," he says.

"No," Alfie tells Matt. "I have other methods."

"There you go with that arrogance again," Matt says, eyes darting to the trailer door - which thankfully remains as closed as ever - as Alfie reaches up and very cautiously places his palm against Matt's cheek. Matt closes his eyes and when Alfie kisses him it's not like he expected at all; not hard or fast or desperate or even wet and clumsy. It's a soft kiss, and Matt tilts his head and opens his mouth and sort of _leans_ up against Alfie because all right, he feels a little desperate. Their tongues brush against one another before Alfie pulls back and they separate. Alfie's calloused palm still rests flush against Matt's skin.

"Am I still arrogant, then?" he asks, looking only slightly smug.

"Very," Matt tells him, taking Alfie's hand from his face and shyly linking their fingers together. "But I didn't say you were wrong about it."


End file.
